


Feline Fun

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Series: Pet Smut [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: April Showers Challenge 2011, Kittenplay, Puppyplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-03
Updated: 2004-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:44:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Animal roles roleplay kinkfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sean is a cat and Viggo wants a pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is *all* Lamath's fault. //glares//
> 
> Oh, and this'll make much more sense if you look at the [cat!Sean](http://sean.mythicdesigns.net/pics/84.jpg) pic first. MUCH more sense.

  
Viggo walked in Sean's house without waiting for a confirmation from the inside. No one locked their doors in the little cluster they lived in, and besides, there was nothing he hadn't seen already. Hadn't they spent one sleepless night laughing over their revealing movies? And _Caravaggio_. Especially _Caravaggio_. Viggo had wondered aloud how many coins Sean could fit up his arse, Sean had invited him to try, and then had ended the night on the floor, laughing until they couldn't anymore. Good times.

But Sean wasn't on the floor now, he was stretched out on the deep green couch, arms thrown over the back and the side cushions, legs splayed almost invitingly over the back. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his button-down jeans were strangely loose about Sean's hips. Viggo realized with a sudden start that Sean wasn't wearing any underwear. Smiled shyly as Sean moaned in his sleep and woke with an almost-purr.

Sean was like Bast, Viggo thought. Full of pleasure, of music, of the agile dance of the beautiful. As innately athletic as a feline, and as playful, with a shaggy head of hair that just begged to be smoothed down and petted. And Viggo found himself kneeling next to the couch, staring as Sean's cat eyes met his, blinked a smiling welcome, hand sneaking of it's own free will to carress Sean's chest. Had to hear the purr, had to lick behind Sean's ears to see if they were sensitive, had to wonder if the Brit could be as proper in this as he was in everything else. Purring under his touch, soft downy hairs smoothing his carresses, and Viggo wondered absently why Sean always shaved for topless scenes. Such beautiful fur. Such wonderful sounds.

Viggo had never thought he'd see Sean relax with such abandon, giving himself over to pleasure, letting his body be worshipped like the lithe god it was. Like Sean was. The angels must have cried when Sean left them, but only tears of joy, knowing that Sean would soon be there to light another's life. After all, gods came home in the end.

But the moment couldn't last, and Sean lifted himself on to one elbow and Viggo felt an unexpected pain at the sudden lack of comfort. "Looking for a pet?"

"I'm willing to train."

"I'll bet you are."

Viggo waited a long time after that, not sure of Sean's meaning. The clock over the fake fire place ticked a good ten minutes before Sean proped himself up again.

"Well?"

"What?"

"Are you going to...well, finish the bloody job! You can't just leave me like that!"

Viggo grinned and began stroking Sean's stomach, lightly teasing the small hairs here and there, feeling the purr as it began. He could get used to this, wondered suddenly if Brits needed house-training, decided that of course they did. All pets needed training. Even angels like Sean needed to be taught who to come to for a nice petting and scratching. And if it would have Sean jumping in his lap at all hours...well, Viggo could think of worse things to happen. And Sean would be flexible, oh so flexible. And he would always land on his feet. No matter what they did, Sean would be on his feet, ready to search up Viggo's ankles for a nice nuzzling. Oh, god, yes. And cats had no sense of personal space, so Sean would feel free to stick his nose wherever on Viggo's body he wanted. He could crawl over while Viggo was curled up with a book and nuzzle against Viggo's prick. He could lap at it like it was his fountain and dinner would soon be served. He could curl up at Viggo's feet and present his belly for a scratching. Whimper for attention, not mind a quick slap on the arse if the opportunity presented itself. And Sean wouldn't mind going naked all the time.

Oh, god, yes.

"Sean?"

"Mmm?"

"If you follow me home, can I keep you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viggo punishes his pet.

Viggo sat on the couch, Sean's head firmly in his lap. One hand had strayed into Sean's hair and was carressing his pet's scalp, the other was content with making Sean purr. The movie was a typical no-brainer, something about a guy, a girl, and some firefights. But Sean had asked to see it, in his best 'master wants to give me this' tone of voice, and Viggo couldn't refuse. Now the credits were rolling and Sean was turning his head to lick Viggo's hand in thanks for allowing him the experience. Sean knew, of course, that it was going to take a lot more than that to pay Viggo back for those two hours of his life he wasted watching a Vin Diesel movie, but Sean also knew that Viggo wouldn't do anything he didn't want him to do. After all, wasn't he his beloved pet? Some people were more concerned with animal welfare than with children starving in the streets of London, building hotels for their cats and dogs while soup kitchens went bankrupt and the homeless turned away. Sean felt grateful he had a home and that Viggo fed him on a regular basis, cleaned up after him, and didn't make him use the litter box if he'd been good.

"Roll over," Viggo commanded and Sean could feel the rumble in Viggo's stomach as his mouth lingered there for a moment before obeying. Viggo had taken him enough times on the carpet for him to barely feel the burn anymore as he rocked back and forth against it as Viggo licked him into submission. Viggo had a wicked enough tongue to be a pet himself, though Sean would never dare suggest such a thing aloud. Viggo might make him sleep outside again, and it had been _raining_ that night. Sean had come back in the next morning with his tail tucked firmly between his legs and had sucked Viggo off then and there. Viggo was his owner, and he had to listen to him. Otherwise, he wasn't a pet, he was just a lousy houseguest. And he didn't want that. Didn't want Viggo to take away his collar and tags, or never leash him again and take him for a walk, or bend him over his knees and stroke his stomach until he purred from the sheer love of it. He wanted Viggo to own him, to be his master, to let him curl up on the couch and stay there for hours without moving. There was nothing better than being a pet, Sean knew. And there was nothing better than being owned by Viggo Mortensen.

And so he purred as Viggo's tongue lapped at his fur, smoothing it, wetting it for what was to come. Viggo liked to come all over his chest and then watch as Sean contorted his body every which way to be able to lick it off. Pets cleaned themselves, though twice a week Viggo would dump him in the shower and not let him out for an hour. After that Sean would have to lick Viggo's feet, suck at his toes, nibble at the soles, in payment for true cleanliness. Not that he minded worshipping Viggo like that. After all, a pet's master is his god, and he has to remember that every moment of the day. Viggo was his entire world, and there was no part of his master's body that he hadn't tasted and found perfect.

"Ask me something," Viggo demanded, breath coming in short gasps as his eyes raked over Sean's welcoming body.

"Permission to receive you, master?"

Viggo laughed. "You're not supposed to be enjoying this, pet. This is a punishment."

Sean didn't bother to hide his grin. "Sorry, master."

"Of course you aren't." Viggo leaned down to bite quickly at Sean's nose, then lingered over his mouth, blew warm air against Sean's lips. Sean whimpered. "You're the least contrite I've probably ever seen you."

"I can be contrite."

"I know you can." Viggo pushed himself suddenly into a stand. "Teeth. Zipper."

Sean went naked always unless they were going outside or had outsiders in the house, and Viggo delighted in being covered when his pet was not. But it sometimes presented problems when Viggo wanted to be in his pet *right* *now* and had to shed a layer or two of clothing. He made up for it by ordering Sean to strip him in the most erotic of ways, but never let Sean suck him while doing it. He wouldn't get his cream until later, if at all. If he had done something to displease his master, Viggo wouldn't let him drink his semen and would only let him eat from his table scraps, usually making him play with a ball of yarn while Viggo was polishing off a sizable meal. Or making him keep a pose for several hours before Viggo deigned to return to his studio to finish his latest painting of his pet. Viggo had quite a few of those, though he had never let Sean see what the final project looked like. His master didn't want to add to his vanity.

Soon Viggo's hands grabbed hold of the handle of Sean's house-collar and pulled him onto two legs to unbutton Viggo's shirt. Viggo didn't always demand he go on all-fours, though it never ceased to please him to have Sean's ass in such an advantageous place. Viggo never entrusted his good shirts to Sean's teeth, though he had lots of practice with Viggo's warm flannel and the small brown buttons that always blunted his teeth. Sean licked across Viggo's chest and attached himself to one of the hard nipples and began to suckle. Too soon, much too soon, Viggo forced him down onto his back with his legs propped up against the underside of the coffee table, exposing himself for Viggo's attentions.

Viggo entered him without any semblance of preparation, but Sean was long past needing stretching before letting his master inside his most secret of places. Viggo filled him up and Sean felt the cry grow in his loins and travel up to his larynx, where he crushed it ruthlessly. Viggo hadn't told him to voice his pleasure, and would most likely pull out at the first sign that his pet was enjoying his punishment. And Sean didn't want that. If he displeased Viggo too much, he wouldn't even let him sleep at the foot of the bed, let alone under Viggo's hand. And Sean liked to snuggle with his master.

Viggo had tamed him all those years ago, not so long ago. Had taken him home and showed him that being a pet could be fulfilling, that taking care of a master, that belonging to one person, could be his life's calling. They had moved into some things slower than others; while Sean had adored the idea of having a collar, the leash had taken some getting used to, and he still wasn't comfortable with the bit Viggo demanded he wear whenever going to a public park. Viggo wasn't afraid he'd bite, more like he'd talk without realizing it. Their neighbors were accepting of their lifestyle up to a point, and that point was that they ignored Sean almost to the edge of neurosis. For Sean to speak to any of them would upset the balance. But when Viggo took Sean running in the groove behind the house, he only insisted on sweats and a minimal studded collar. They had quite a collection. For Christmas Orli had gotten them a leather collar with a diamond clasp and a leather strap with a furred handle. The strap could be used as a matching leash for the collar, though Viggo usually used it to whack at Sean's ass when he was too slow carrying out an order. Viggo was using the strap now to tickle over Sean's nipples and collarbone, making him arch into the air begging for more. Viggo had tamed him completely, and his only complaint was that Viggo hadn't done it sooner. They had wasted so much time they could have spent together.

"It's ok, Sean. You can stop holding back." Viggo's voice was amused and Sean cracked open one eye to make sure Viggo wasn't joking. Seeing his master's sincerity written plainly on his face, Sean gave voice to a long moan as Viggo repeatedly hit his prostate as the strap sang in the air to touch down between Sean's nipples. His voice hitched, continued, one long sound denegrating slowly into a purr of contentment as Viggo found the mark and stayed there. "You have my permission to come, pet."

Sean shook, then shivered as a delicate finger ran up the length of his cock and began to pull lightly at the foreskin. He came in the warm hand and eagerly lapped at it as Viggo brought it to his lips. If Viggo saw how enthusiastic he was, perhaps he would let him suck him off later as a midnight treat. Sean sucked at the presented fingers, cleaning them carefully, darting his tongue under the fingernails and around the knuckles, kissing the tip of them all. Licked Viggo's lifelines and creases of his palm, searching any and all taste of himself. Viggo didn't like it when he made a mess.

Then Viggo was kissing him deep as he pulled out and came all over Sean's stomach and chest. Wiped his cock against Sean's thigh as he stood and headed for the shower. "Clean yourself up," he ordered over his shoulder and, sighing happily, Sean set himself about the task.

Now just to lick up that last elusive drop.


	3. Chapter 3

They really were too cute, Orli decided. Sean looked uncomfortable in sweats and ankle socks and had his arms wrapped around Viggo's waist, using it as an impromptu anchor. He didn't even seem to realize he was doing it, and that was the most adorable thing about it. Viggo's hand was buried under Sean's shoulder-length hair somewhere around the neck and his eyes dared Orli to say anything about his comforting his lover. If Orli hadn't been a friend he was sure that Viggo would have locked Sean in the bedroom and not let him out until Orli was on his merry way back to England. The tabloids had already gotten hold of the story and Viggo had no intention of any more details getting out about his and Sean's private lives. But Orli already knew. Almost everyone on set had known, Orli more than any of them. After all, they had shared a trailer and had bumped into them, to the surprise of all three of them, at a pet store where Sean had blushed to the tips of his shorn hair and dropped the oversized collar he had been holding. Orli had walked in on more than one occassion to see Sean curled up at Viggo's feet and sleeping. Of course he knew.

But he appreciated the fact that they weren't shoving their lifestyle in his face. He didn't have any problem with fags, but the owner/pet relationship they had was slightly disquieting. Sean's collar was covered by his sweatshirt, but Orli knew that it was there, saw Viggo's hand stray to touch it without thinking of polite company. There was a waterbowl drying on the dish rack and a leash hanging near the front door. Joke about it all Orli would, Viggo truly thought of Sean as his pet.

It made Orli feel a little better that it wasn't in a bondage or real dominance sort of way. It was about protection and adoration more than dominance and lust. Viggo had no interest in subjugating Sean, and he would kill himself before he hurt his lover more than just a slap on the backside for bad behavior. Viggo would say that you just don't beat pets, but Orli saw how his eyes worshipped Sean, wanted to hold him and protect him and keep him in his arms forever. And Orli knew that Sean adored Viggo, loved him, and wanted only for Viggo to order his life for him for the rest of his life. Their partnership worked for them and so Orli said nothing. It wasn't any of his business.

Besides, the worst Viggo ever did to Sean was tether him to a tree in the yard and paint him like that. Orli had seen Viggo's collection of portraits and sketches of Sean, stretched out on a couch, leaning against a wall, with animal traits and characteristics. In one Sean had soft fur all over his body. In another, a long muzzle, or whiskers, or paws, or a long tail wrapped around his legs. In all of them Sean was conspicuously naked and Orli knew from embarrassed walk-ins in Wellington that Viggo only let Sean wear clothes around the house when they had visitors. Probably saved a fortune on laundry detergent. But, probably not. Viggo had even made Sean add a clause to his terms for accepting parts in films, that all his costumes had to have high collars. The sleeves could be as short as to be non-existant and his chest could be bared, but Sean wouldn't take off his collar and neither of them wanted it on film. Viggo didn't mind if others saw his pet's body, but Sean was owned and the collar served to remind them both of that fact. And there was no better place to froget who you belonged to than on a hectic set where gratification was fast and urgent and consequences almost nonexistant.

Sean shifted against Viggo and Orli could see the tip of a small spike peak up over the cotton. He blushed lightly and tried to look away. The gift had been a joke. He hadn't expected them to actually *use* it. Orli knew Viggo was likely to match collar to what Sean wore and so he had expected that Sean's housecollar would be light brown to match Sean's full body tan. Instead Viggo was polite enough to make his pet wear the gift Orli had given them and tactful enough to keep it where Orli didn't have to see it used if he didn't want to.

But Orli couldn't help mentioning it. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Sean lifted his head from burrowing in Viggo's waist to be able to answer. "Not really. I've gotten so used to having something around my neck that I feel like I'm going starkers without one, and the spikes are pretty blunt. Sure, it's not as comfortable as my normal one, but that's only because I'm more used to it. This guy," and here Sean nudged Viggo's stomach with his head, "likes to keep me on my toes and switches them when I'm not looking. I'd say he had a fetish about them, but I'm not one to talk about fetishes, not really. He tends to laugh at me when I do."

Orli's eyes flicked to Viggo, who appeared to be ignoring this turn of the conversation. He knew they had an agreement about what they called each other in public company and how much of their lifestyle they would let leak out, but he wasn't sure if he would be getting Sean into any trouble by pursuing this line of conversation. Sure, he knew that Viggo _said_ they weren't into BDSM, but there was no way of knowing if that was just hyperbole and Sean would later be tied up and fucked hard. What goes on outside the bedroom, Orli knew, shouldn't transfer into the bedroom, but, hell, Sean and Viggo obviously fucked all over, if the worn dents in the carpet were any indication. He didn't want to ruin his and Sean's friendship over something like this. Wasn't worth it.

Viggo seemed to sense Orli's turmoil because he lowered his gaze to stare Orli in the eye. Smiled. "Go on, Orlando. You're a friend and if you're curious about anything, please feel free to ask."

"Whathappenswhensomeonespotsthecollar?" He asked in a rush, blushed, and then repeated it slowly.

Sean smiled slowly in remembrance. "Most of my outdoor collars look like chokers unless you get really close, close enough to see the small loop for a chain or a leash. I just look like an overgrown punk. Got the collars in a 24/7 BDSM store if memory serves. So into the lifestyle that the slaves had a pen to stand in while their masters shopped for them, only allowed out to try things on. Viggo had a hell of a time convincing them that I wasn't a slave, but I would be trying things on. We kind of stradle the different camps and so none of them quite know what to do with us." He snorted. "Remember when the tabloids got ahold of the story and several gay organizations denouced our lifestyle? Well, one of them was a light kink one and they didn't like that the tabloids painted me as a slave. But I'm not."

"I wouldn't dream of asking Sean to do manual labor," Viggo continued smoothly. "Most fulltime slaves do domestic work, cooking, cleaning, et cetera. Sean's a pet. He's a pampered, lazy bastard," Sean made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat, "that is content to sleep away the afternoon on the couch. And if I leave him home alone, heaven help me if I didn't bring dinner back."

"Though I won't eat pet food. Ever."

"Hard limit," Viggo agreed. "Don't look so shocked, Orlando. We know the lingo, we just don't like to use it. Sean doesn't have a safeword, but only because I know him well enough to know that if he says 'no', he means it. He's said it before and we've stopped until he wanted to start again." Viggo caught Orlando's eye and held it. "I would never do anything that hurt him, ever. Sure, I've bent him over my knee and spanked him, or whacked him hard with a leash, but only in play. We don't do domestic violence, and I'm certainly not a Dom. I'm just a man with a pet that happens to be human. A human that, I'm sad to say, has cat claws."

Sean grinned ferally and jumped him over the couch, where a struggle ensued briefly before Viggo hefted Sean up by the neck. Sean had the grace to look sheepish.

"And if you'll excuse us for a moment, someone here needs to be dunked under a lot of cold water."

Sean pouted all the way to the bathroom. "You told me to be good."

"So I did." Viggo patted Sean on his rump and turned the water on. "Now, stay. I don't want to hear a peep from you while I make dinner."

"Yes, master," Sean recited, dutifully. Viggo gave him a quick kiss before leaving to attend to their guest. Orli hadn't moved from the couch and was making a big show of studiously ignoring any sounds from the upstairs. He didn't even turn when Viggo sat down again across from him. He gave Orli a rueful smile which widened when Orli made a sudden tactful joke about cats in heat.

"I think you'll do," he pronounced, and they went in the kitchen to make dinner. While it cooked, Orli set the table for two. Sean, as befitting his punishment, would be eating on the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein there is domestic bliss.

The sauce bubbled happily in its pot and Viggo dipped the spoon in carefully, stirred a couple times, and then lifted it out. Sean's head came up in expectation and Viggo gave him the spoon to lick clean.

"Is it ready?"

In reply, Sean began to lick Viggo's curled hand, nuzzling at his wrist, lapping at the lines and paint stains. On hands and knees on the cold linoleum, tethered securely to the handle of the refrigerator, Sean could do nothing but whine as Viggo moved out of range and turned off the flame. The pot went to soak in the dishpan while he poured the hastily-made spaghetti sauce over the prepared pasta. Leaving the sauce to assimilate itself to its new surroundings, Viggo reached into the cupboard and took out Sean's dish. He filled it with water and lay it on the floor for Sean to drink.

The dining room chair was out of Sean's reach and Sean knew better than to paw at the ground to get to his master. Instead, he drank the water under Viggo's casual gaze, resisting the urge to make a show of it. Viggo had had enough of shows for quite a long time, having to wait until Macbeth was well and done with to get Sean on his knees in his kitchen again. Sean hadn't worn his collar consistently during Macbeth's run since his costumes had demanded otherwise and it had been too late to change them, and he knew Viggo was still mad that for several hours a week, Sean was good as ownerless. Sean hoped to make it up to his master, and he couldn't do that if he argued with every order and direction.

Viggo ate his spaghetti leisurely, sparing Sean a glance every second minute or so. After twenty minutes of teasing, Viggo had mercy on his hungry pet. He stood, untied the leash, and led Sean into the dining room. Sean laid his head in Viggo's lap, offering his fuzz for stroking, and Viggo didn't disappoint. He purred loudly as he knew he was supposed to, and Viggo rewarded him with a bite of spaghetti coiled tightly around his fork. "Good boy," Viggo praised and let Sean lick his fingers before returning with more spaghetti. Sean purred happily. He had missed this. He had missed Viggo, of course he had, but they had called each other every night Viggo wasn't watching one of his performances, and had tried to do one of those 'keep our distances to see if this thing we have is lasting or not' arrangements for a month. He had missed the man, yes, but he had missed this more. The quiet times when they really didn't need words between them, when he was Viggo's and only Viggo's and it was so true and apparent that they didn't need to affirm it or defend it. Sean had missed belonging to Viggo in such an unthinking way and it was almost soothing the way they had slipped back into owner-and-pet mentality when Sean's plane touched down in Los Angeles. A quick stop at a pharmacist on the way home and then Viggo had ordered Sean to strip after crossing the threshold. They hadn't looked back, nor had Sean gotten dressed, since then. Sean very much enjoyed being a kept man for as long as their mutual schedules allowed it.

Viggo gave Sean his bowl to lick clean and Sean fell to the task eagerly, nose pressed against the ceramics, tongue darting in and out to lap up every centimeter of sauce. He carried the bowl over to the sink and, standing up on his knees, dropped it with a muttered 'pinnnk' into the dishpan. Viggo's hand caught the trailing leash before Sean could go anywhere else and led him into the den. Viggo's computer sat on a table in the corner, but most of the beige room was taken up by an extra-long sofa and coffee table. Several books lay on the coffee table and a couple scripts, which Viggo ignored as he tied Sean's leash to the far leg of the coffee table. Sean sat back on his haunches with his hands in front of him as Viggo took a book from one of the shelves and relaxed on the couch. Sean smiled as he recognized the book, and crawled closer so he could huddle Viggo's feet. Viggo liked to read him poetry after long days, and Elijah had recently corrupted him to T.S. Eliot. There was something soothing about Viggo's soft voice reading the slow lines and syllables of Eliot.

Looking for something to occupy himself while Viggo searched for the right page, Sean's mouth drifted over Viggo's boots. He had thought it strange that Viggo hadn't taken them off when he came in from his errands that afternoon, but hadn't said anything. It wasn't his place to question his owner. But boots. Sean hadn't licked boots in a long time and had almost forgotten the smooth taste of leather against his tongue. He had almost forgotten the poignance of the smell of well-worn boots and the way the stitches felt running across his lips. Sean nibbled again, urged on by the fact that Viggo hadn't said anything to stop him, breath only hitching as Sean latched his mouth onto an ankle. He ran his fingers over the toe of the other boot as his lips massaged the curve of the spicy leather, inhaled deeply the wonderful smell of dirt and leather and _Viggo_.

"The-the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," Viggo stammered, right leg jerking slightly into Sean's mouth without its owner noticing. Sean hummed an agreement around his mouthful of tasty leather and Viggo jerked again.

Viggo stuttered a bit in Italian before taking a deep breath and began to read. Sean relaxed his attentions somewhat; he knew that if he disturbed Viggo's reading there would be hell to pay. Viggo didn't worship any god but creativity and to impugne on the sacred honor of poetry was a capital offence that merited death. Or, at least, a very harsh spanking.

"Let us go then, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky, like a patient etherized upon a table." Viggo's voice washed over Sean like a warm blanket and he snuggled again against Viggo's boots, this time almost prone on the floor as he licked at the soles. "Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels, and sawdust restaurants with oyster shells."

Sean muttered an agreement of the idea and moved on to the other boot, enjoying the taste too much to stop. Oyster shells sounded nice, oysters even better. Not that Viggo ever needed any help in fucking his pet into oblivion. He traced the tread of the boots carefully, making sure to clean every inch of them. He hated a job half-done. If 'twere done, it would be best to be done quickly. Or, close enough. He had vowed to forget as much of Macbeth as possible. Too much time away from his owner. It wasn't right.

Sean moved up the second boot to Viggo's calf and sucked hard against a particular dirty spot. Viggo's voice hitched and his reaction almost caught Sean in the solar plexus. "Slipped by the terrace," Viggo tried again. "Made a sudden leap, and seeing it was a soft October night," Sean repeated the suction and Viggo rewarded him with a boot in the stomach for his efforts. Viggo cleared his throat. "Curled once about the house, and fell asleep."

Ooh, yes. Sean could go for that. Curling about the house and falling asleep wherever he chose. Viggo never disturbed him when he was sleeping, though sometimes Sean would wake up to find a warm hand petting his belly or neck. And what was it Viggo had said about rubbing its back upon the window-panes? That sounded fun, though slightly cold in this weather.

Abandoning his plans for that sweet spot, Sean set out on another trek to map Viggo's pleasure spots through his boots. The curve of his foot, always a nice place to lick when Viggo went barefoot, apparently couldn't feel anything through the thick layer of hardened leather, but the ankles were as nice as ever and Sean used his teeth liberally. He hadn't gotten that much pasta, and a nice dinner of leather sounded nice. Especially when the leather tasted like sweat and Viggo.

"In a minute there is time," Viggo intoned, the pleading tone at the back of his throat as good as an imperative for Sean to continue his ministrations and assault on Viggo's feet. "For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse."

Hey, that sentiment wasn't half bad. It was saying you could always go back and redo things, though Sean hadn't really been paying much attention to the famous poem. Boots were more important. Pleasing his master was more important. Poems could wait for Viggo's pleasure.

"For I have known them all already, known them all," Viggo's tongue outlined his lips, wetting them, and Sean noted with some satisfaction that it wasn't the reading that had brought his master to such an act. He nibbled against the hidden zipper, running his tongue up and down the tracks, pressing his lips against them. "Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons. I have measured out my life with coffee spoons."

Coffee. Sean swore mentally. He knew he had forgotten something. Viggo liked to have coffee after dinner and Sean usually prepared it for him. To be fair, Viggo hadn't given him any choice what with dragging him around all day on a leash, but he could have atleast turned the machine on before obeying the rope attached to the matching collar.

"And I have known the arms already, known them all." Sean looked up, gave his master his best 'who me?' look before realizing that Viggo was doing his best to ignore his pet and what a soft mouth was doing to his self-control. "Arms that are braceleted and white and bare (but in the lamplight downed with light brown hair!). Is it perfume from a dress that makes me so digress?"

Sean growled at that and bit heavily at the curve of the toes. Thankfully the leather was strong there and so Viggo did not feel it, but Sean bit down all the same. It better not be perfume from a dress that made him digress. It better be Sean that made him stutter and made his voice lift and fall. If it wasn't...well, the girl better not come within leash range of Sean. Sean couldn't vouchsafe their ankles if they *were* cutting in on his time with Viggo.

Sean brought his arms out from under Viggo's boots and wrapped them around his master's legs, bringing his face in close, holding tight. Viggo reached a hand down to stroke Sean's shorn hair, smooth Sean's worries. Sean sighed against the hand and kissed it briefly. It was only a poem, and, even better, Viggo wasn't the poet. It wasn't his fault that the author liked girls. Still, Sean buried his face between Viggo's knees and felt his hands convulse at the thought of losing Viggo to a girl, a girl who didn't like the taste of leather on her tongue, the taste of Viggo's semen in a waterbowl or a piece of toast, or even mixed in with his morning tea. A girl who wouldn't kneel beautifully for Viggo and let him order her life. A girl who wouldn't cry on the phone to Viggo after a bad performance, begging to be allowed to come home. A girl who wouldn't rely on Viggo to remind her of commitment, of contracts, of how she would feel in a week if she walked out now. A girl who wasn't so bloody needy.

A girl that, Sean reminded himself sharply, Viggo didn't want. Viggo wanted him, that's why he was still on his knees and not out the door. Viggo didn't mind Sean's weaknesses. He didn't mind that Sean sometimes crawled into the bed at night when he wasn't supposed to, and curled up against his master, only to leave quietly as the dawn broke and Viggo awoke. Viggo didn't mind that he did that. And Viggo didn't want some soft girl. He wanted a soft Sean.

"I have heard the mermaids singing each to each," Viggo said and Sean could tell by his tone that the poem was almost done and, two, that he was concerned about his pet's stillness. Sean tried to smile at that and only succeeded in letting the first tear out, which he quickly smeared against a boot and licked it up. The leather tasted comforting in his mouth once more and he relished the sharp taste that let him know he was loved. Viggo let him clean his boots. Viggo loved him. Viggo loved him and no one else. Sean sharpened his claws against his thigh. Viggo was his, and he was Viggo's, and if anyone ever tried to get between them, there would be hell to pay. "I do not think they will sing to me."

Of course they will. Who doesn't love Viggo? Who can hold back the overwhelming feelings toward such a wonderful man? Even maidens of the sea wouldn't be that cold. Sean pressed his lips in worship to Viggo's lower leg muscles, drawing circles with his tongue, cleaning up any dirt that might have also decided that it loved Viggo.

"We have lingered in the chambers of the sea, by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown, 'till human voices wake us, and we drown." Viggo closed the book slowly, but the sound still startled Sean. He looked up in guilty panic as Viggo smiled indulgently at him, then tsked. "You really should know better than that, pet." Sean added all the innocence he possessed into his pleading glance, and was rewarded as Viggo's hand pressed him into his swollen groin. "You've been a bad boy, Sean. Tell me why I should give you cream for being a bad boy."

Sean licked at the wet spot on Viggo's sweatpants, comparing the taste of it with the leather still on his tongue. "I only want to please you, master."

"Then finish what you started. Through the pants, because I'm not going to reward you _that_ much for doing what I didn't tell you to do. But I appreciate the clean boots. Perhaps I'll have you lick them more often."

Sean whimpered at the thought of spending hours kneeling in front of his owner, cleaning off every piece of dirt and grime that happening to stick itself onto the worn leather, and knew Viggo could see his very noticeable erection against his thigh. But Viggo wouldn't let him come that night, not after teasing him that much. He was lucky to be getting cream. "Yes, master," he answered demurely and began to suck against the soft cotton of the sweatpants. Viggo came satisfyingly through the pants moments later and Sean occupied himself with getting all the dampness he could into his mouth. There was nothing like Viggo's come in his mouth. Nothing. And Viggo knew it, the damned bastard, as he rarely ever gave Sean the treat. Only on special occasions or when Sean had been exceedingly good. Neither of them applied and Sean felt only grateful that Viggo had deigned to give him a measure of approval by letting him lick up the soaked-up remnants of his semen.

Too soon it was over and Viggo was looking him over with a critical eye, gaze resting briefly on Sean's erection. "Litter box," he proclaimed, and Sean's tail drooped. "And don't give me those eyes. You're not the one who's going to have to clean it out. Then jack off into it. In that order."

Sean swallowed as Viggo leaned forward to untie his leash, then bounded into the hallway. Maybe if he hurried, then Viggo would pet him until he purred, then fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein there is phone sex. And Robert Frost. And snarky Kevin Smith references.

The phone rang just as Sean was contemplating how harsh his punishment would be if he got started before Viggo let him, but no matter. The headset was securely attached to his head and his hands were slowly finding their way to rest above his groin, awaiting orders.

"Bean," he answered curtly, hoping against hope that it wasn't Orli or Brad or Bana. He couldn't yell if it was Peterson, but maybe he could pretend to have static problems to free up the line for his owner.

"Hey," a smooth voice answered in his ear, and Sean relaxed against the couch, sighing as he felt the almost-soft upholstery dig into his back. "What are you wearing?"

"Mmmm..." Sean's fingers traced the bumps of his collar, finding the hidden clasp. "That black heavy one we got at Petco. Looked like it could fit a bear. I changed into it as soon as I got back to the suite. Love the heavy feel. Love the way it pushes against my throat, reminding me I'm yours." He had to wear his smallest collar while filming and had to push it all the way against his collarbone so the costume would cover it. It gave the costume people hell daily. Sean couldn't care less as long as they didn't make him take it off. "Miss you."

"Miss you, too. This place is entirely too empty without you. I woke up this morning and missed you in my arms and around my legs and curled between my toes. Wanted to write you an e-mail about it, but-"

"'Don't dare write it down for fear it'll become words, just words'?" Sean teased, knowing he would pay for it the next night when Viggo's plane touched down and he could finally curl up in his master's lap again. He couldn't wait.

"Exactly." Viggo's voice was amused and Sean's hands began their slow creep down to his cock. "I have one of your collars in my hand. It's purple rubber and I've scrawled on it in permanent marker 'Prop. Of VM'. You'll be wearing it to the next Fellowship gathering. Now thank me."

"Thank you, master."

"Good boy."

Sean preened. "Thank you, master."

"Tell me what you want to be doing right now."

Sean didn't even have to think about it. "I want to be on my knees next to you, hands behind my back. You have a bowl of...blueberries, no, strawberries, on your lap, and I'm to pick up one at a time and feed it to you with my mouth. Every so often you let me kiss you after and I can taste the berries on the inside of your mouth and on your tongue. Then you take one of them between your fingers and place it in my open mouth. I close my mouth, suck your fingers as I swallow, and you moan. I'm wearing my house collar, the one with the flap we use for a handle," Sean quickened his pace, hoping that Viggo wouldn't ask what happened to that collar. Sean had plans for it. "And you pull me onto your lap, bounce me up and down. You turn me around so that my ass is firm against you, and I'm tense with excitement, hoping you'll make me beg. I know that I'll be on my knees tonight and I can hardly wait to suck your knees and lick your toes. Can't wait to rub my head against your thighs, feel your hand on my stomach, stroking me into calmness. You put the bowl on my lap and only laugh when it falls off because you stuck it a little too close to my dick. You're in a very good mood; Ian called before and you two had a nice talk while I huddled under the table, resting my head on your lap. You caressed my scalp as you talked and even let me talk to Ian for a few minutes while you fixed supper." Sean heard Viggo groan something over the phone, and smiled shyly. "Yes, master?"

"Keep going, or I never pet you again," Viggo growled. Sean's smile grew sly.

"Yes, master. And after I've picked up the berries from the floor with my mouth, you lay me across your knees for a quick spank. Feels so nice, the way your hand hits my arse, warming it up for later. Then you take my leash from the side-table and leave it dangling from my ankle while you make me recite Frost's _Devotion_ and again backwards. Then _Acquainted With The Night_ , to warn me about not listening. Vig, you *do* know that 'one luminary clock against the sky' was most likely Big Ben? At an unearthly height, the time being neither wrong nor right..."

"Love, you have *miles* to go before you can sleep. Miles. Keep telling yourself that while you stall."

"Yes, sir. Then when I've recited to satisfaction, you trail the end of the leash against my back and I shiver as you dip it into my hole. 'Only if you're a good boy', you say, and continue to tease. Your hand follows soon after, stroking my back, making me purr with contentment. And - oh."

"What?!"

"#15. You make me go into position and make me trap my hands under my body so I can't keep the boots directly in front of me and so I have nothing to anchor me as you slam into me, making me lick your boots as you do it. I'm pushed into them and the left one topples. You reach from your crouch and right it, then keep pushing. Every time I clean a premarked segment, you reach under me and touch my cock. Feels so good, master. So good. I'm tight around you and you reward me for not complaining by coming hard inside me. Oh, thank you, master. Thank you. Thank you for your gift, your present of your essence deep inside me, marking me so intimately. I'm your pet, master. Yours. Only yours."

"Mine," Viggo agreed, voice hoarse. "Damn you, Sean, you weren't supposed to make me come. You're going to pay for that."

"Sorry, master."

"Is the book nearby?"

"Yes, master." It rested on the table right behind Sean. He had leave to look through all the pictures they had gone through already, though he was guilty of looking ahead for favorites.

"Last time was #36, if I recall. You doing push-ups while I fucked you dry."

Sean's mouth was the thing that was dry. "Yes, master."

"Open to #37."

It was stark black-and-white on heavy paper and Sean felt his heart flutter. "I have done so, master."

"Are you on headset?"

"Yes, master."

"Prop the book up against your bent knees. You are not to touch your cock, do you understand?"

"Yes, master."

"Fingers on your nipples. Pinch them as much as you can stand before giving yourself a moment of respite. Continue doing this until I tell you to stop. You remember that night, don't you? We had gone shopping and you had been such a good boy and kept your eyes off the forbidden. And you didn't move to switch the radio dial on the way home, didn't protest the country music during the ride. You were _very_ good. Took the ball of yarn without a blink and began to lie on your back and play with it, untangling and retangling it, making a bit of a mess with it. Tell me how you felt, Sean. Tell me what you felt when I took you between my thighs."

" _Good_ , fucking *good*. Grateful as hell. Wanted to please you, master. Night before had been bad and wanted t'do penance. Get forgiveness. Remind you why you keep me around."

"You were never in danger of losing me."

"Know that _now_. Didn't then. So was playing with the yarn and it was surprisingly fun. Got my toes tangled in it as well. Fun. Then you spread your legs and told me to come over. You rested my chin against the cushion and let me watch as you unzipped your pants. You opened my mouth so your dick would fall neatly into it."

"How are the nipples, pet?"

"T-tender. Sensitive. Very sensitive. Feels good."

"Nothing lower?" There was threat apparent in his voice, but Sean didn't care.

"Nothing, Vig, swear on a stack of Bibles. Only me nipples and only because you told me to. Promise."

"Very well. By all means, continue. So you had my dick in your mouth."

Sean moaned in memory. "Tasted so good. So bloody brilliant. Licked you all over it, made you murmur bad poetry and clench your fists in my hair. Choked me on my collar but couldn't care less. Had you inside my mouth; why *should* I care? Then you pulled back and I almost cried. Told me to get my bowl. Flew, Vig, think I flew to get it. But must not 've gone very fast since you had your camera by the time I got back, bowl between my teeth as I laid it at your feet and sat up, panting. Told me to hold the bowl in my teeth as you came into it and if I spilled a drop, you wouldn't fuck me for a week. You didn't fill the bowl, but it sloshed nicely as I dropped it onto the carpet and laid my head in your lap. You stroked my brow, then told me to lick it up, like supper. Positioned me against the coffee table, on my knees, presenting arse, nice side-view, and you wouldn't know it was your come unless you looked hard at the way it was sticking to my goatee. Miss that goatee. Miss having whiskers that you'd smooth down. Miss that. Miss you. Want to come, master."

"Why should I let you, pet?"

Sean arched back against the couch pillows at Viggo's voice in his ear, stroking his mind it seemed. "Love you, master."

"Not a good enough reason. Touch your collar, Sean. Run your thumb along the braided top. Now suck your thumb. Take the book off your lap. You may now look at #37 whenever you feel the desire to do so. You may stop touching your nipples. Sean."

"Master?"

"Cold shower. Don't hang up, I want to talk to you when you're out. No hot water whatsoever. Fifteen minutes. If you come I shall be very...displeased. There will be time enough for that tomorrow."

Sean refrained from pouting long enough to answer his owner. "Yes, master."

"Now take the headset off. Leave it on the couch. Come back in fifteen minutes. You may be a little late, but you may not be early."

Sean resigned himself to his fate and, sixteen and a quarter minutes later, he picked up the headset. "I'm here, master."

"Good. Still hard?"

"A little," he admitted.

"Bad boy."

Sean hung his head in shame and began to fall into a kneel, then remembered that Viggo couldn't see him and he couldn't do proper penance over the phone. "Forgive me?"

"Forgiven," Viggo dismissed, "forgotten." His voice chuckled a little and Sean felt his spirits lift. "Now get some sleep. Don't want you swallowing your lines before you get a chance to swallow my cock."

Almost as good as a promise! "Thank you, master."

Viggo chuckled again, and his voice took on Arwen's soft overtones. "Go to sleep."

Sean smiled, patted himself down, and crawled into bed, dial-tone serving him as a lullaby.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viggo comes to Malta. Not-so-wild puppy sex ensues. Cinzia is *so* to blame for my new fetish about calling him a puppy.

Viggo grabbed his duffel from the revolving baggage claim. Some things, it seemed, where the same everywhere. He had caught an earlier flight with the intention of surprising Sean and so had to wait in a long line to hail a cab to take him to the location. He smoothed the crumpled map out from his carry-on, puzzling over the directions Orli had given him over the phone. Take a left here, then a right, go straight for half a mile, then follow the orange cones. Except that there were no orange cones. Some times Viggo wondered if that boy was colorblind.

Ah, here it was. Shooting was just wrapping for the day and Viggo tipped the driver overmuch (had to keep up the illusion of a bloody American tourist) and showed his faxed pass to the guard at the gate. He spotted Sean immediately. Only his pet could give the illusion of complete attention while jumping out of his skin to run to the airport. Sean was leaning against a camera listening intently to something Peterson was telling him. He nodded once, twice, and then broke out into a flat run for the costume trailer. Viggo smiled and moved forward, nodding in greeting to people he had worked with over the years on different projects, taking up post in front of Sean's trailer just as Sean ran out of costuming with his shirt half tucked in and his only two of his buttons on his pants fastened.

"Eric," he was saying to someone desperately trying to keep up with him, "could you run my script back to my room? I need to pick up Viggo..." his voice trailed off as he noticed Viggo standing there, arms crossed and attempting to look harsh. "Viggo..."

Viggo abandoned the attempt. Stupid thing, really. "Sean. You look...amazing." The Mediterranean was good for him, it seemed. His hair had bleached and, Viggo rubbed at his eyes, was that a beard?

Sean seemed to understand his owner's look. He touched the beard hesitantly. "Do you like it? I wanted to surprise you."

"I'm surprised," Viggo said softly. "But in a good way." His eyes glinted with mischief and he opened his arms for Sean. Once Sean was comfortably settled and Viggo had taken a long moment to relish the comfortable sensation he had missed for so long, he leaned forward to whisper into Sean's ear. "I look forward to seeing just what it can do. Can it absorb my come as I fuck your mouth and pull out to paint your face? Will it tickle when you deep-throat me?"

Sean laughed quietly. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too, pet. Keep the face fur. I like it."

Sean licked happily at Viggo's ear. "Puppy has another surprise."

"Oh?"

"Look down."

An erection wasn't a surprise...oh. "I was wondering where that had gotten to."

"Puppy admits to being a bad pet and stealing it."

Viggo's grin grew. Sean only acted out if he had something planned. "And what do you intend to do now?"

"Oh, I don't know. I was thinking along the lines of crawling to you and starting at your toes, finally allowed to worship you. And when you wanted me to get on with it and go lick somewhere else, you'd pull me along, having me exactly where you want me. Then when I was done, you could have your way with me and then let me fall asleep in your arms."

"Sounds fun," Viggo said, then pulled back and kissed Sean hard. Sean eagerly returned it and Viggo wrapped his fists in Sean's too-big shirt and pulling him even closer. Fuck, he had missed this. Missed Sean. Missed his puppy.

A resounding applause made them break apart, though reluctantly, and Sean flushed. Viggo couldn't stop himself from tracing the blush as it escaped into Sean's beard. Beard. Viggo still couldn't get over that. He had known intellectually that in a movie that would take place so long ago, there were no electric shavers and a beard was a symbol of a man grown, but to see his pet with a beard was something else. It was damned endearing, but Viggo hadn't quite gotten used to it yet. He was sure he would begin to adore it, but not yet.

"Vig, mate!"

Viggo turned, keeping his arm around Sean's waist, and watched Orlando job over to greet them.

"See you've got things back to normal?" Orli grinned as he said it, taking in the sight. He had told Viggo that Sean had been pining, but Sean was back to normal now, happy to be with his owner. Orli wondered how long it would be before Viggo had a leash into Sean's collar (very noticeable today, but that was probably in honor of Viggo) and had him tied to a dresser.

"Very much, thank you. And yourself?" Viggo shifted to allow Sean's drooping head easier access to his shoulder. He turned his head to kiss Sean's messy hair briefly, holding Orli's eye while he did so.

"Been bloody brilliant. They have extreme sports here, did you know? Nothing like Kiwi country, 'course, but it's great what they got. I haven't been waterskiing in months."

"I'm sure the waves missed you."

Orli laughed and socked Viggo. He lowered his voice so that the onlookers couldn't hear. "Vig, take good care of him. Shooting's a bitch." He spoke as if Sean couldn't hear him, knowing that Sean had happily returned to pet-mentality and he wouldn't understand anything not brought to his attention by his owner. A pet's attention span was limited and sometimes included only his master and the stray butterfly.

"I fully intend to," Viggo replied seriously, touched by Orlando's concern. "I'm going to take him home and put him to bed. He's probably more tired than he looks, which means that he's doing his best not to fall asleep on me until I tell him to. I know how bad long shoots can be, Orlando. I'm going to spoil him rotten and I don't care who publishes those pictures that publicist needs to stop taking." There was a growl in Viggo's voice and Sean whimpered, snuggling closer. Viggo tightened his hold on his pet, kissing his hair again and muttered a command to relax in Danish. Sean obeyed reluctantly and Viggo could feel his muscles unclenching and uncoiling. Sean gave a long sigh and melted. "You need a nap at the very least, pet," Viggo whispered and heard Sean give a mumble of agreement. It was a Friday and the end of what was probably a very long week for Sean. As for Viggo, the jet lag hadn't set in yet, but he could do with a nap as well. As long as it was with Sean. Fuck, but he had missed having his pet in his bed.

"I'll chase off the photographers. You just get him home and give him what he wants, eh?" The devil-loves-me smile was back and Orli winked. Viggo watched in growing amusement as Orli stalked over to the cameraman and proceeded to regale him with a long story about swimming with the sharks, or whatever he had been doing during his trip to San Diego.

"Come on, pet," Viggo pushed Sean slightly in the direction of the gate.

"Leash me?"

"Later," Viggo promised. "We're in public."

"Don't care about them. Care about you."

"Yes, but I care about not having your face splashed all over the tabloids. You wouldn't be able to leave the house for a month."

Sean nuzzled Viggo's shoulder. "Puppy likes master's house. Puppy hates leaving. Puppy wants to always stay there and warm master's feet."

"Puppy will do what master says right now, though, and that means no leash. But I do have a present for you once we get in the car."

Sean perked up noticeably at that and allowed Viggo to steer him toward the parking lot. Sean opened the passenger door for the rental car first and barked in surprise when Viggo pushed him in.

"I'm driving. Buckle your seatbelt."

Sean blinked. "Master knows the way?"

"Master has directions and will figure it out." Viggo hauled his duffle into the back and rummaged into one of the pockets of his carry-on for a plastic bag. He presented it to Sean to hold while he slammed the trunk and spent a moment acquainting himself with the set-up of the rented Volvo. "I brought it from Los Angeles for you to chew on, pet, not for you to stare at."

Sean blushed again, slipping the soft dildo into his mouth. It had been a very lucky find. Viggo had found himself in a sex shop when they had received a shipment and the shopgirl had bemoaned the poor quality of one of the dildos while ringing up Viggo's purchase. Viggo had bought the rubber toy on the spot, no questions asked. It was perfect for Sean to chew on and big enough that he had to work at it. And, best of all, it didn't squeak.

"Are you hungry, puppy?"

Sean shook his head. That meant he was, but didn't want to admit to it for fear Viggo would try to feed him instead of fucking him, Viggo knew. He let it drop, for now. There'd be time later to feed his puppy.

"New on location rules. Pay attention, pet. You may continue showering every night. You are not to lick yourself clean unless I tell you to. Around other people you will not flaunt your status, but you are not to act ashamed of it. Orlando is a special case because he already knows. You may continue talking to Orlando as though you are speaking to me. Nights on the town with the cast are still permissible and it is optional to ask me to attend with you. I will spend my days while you are shooting exploring this place, the art museums and such, but if there is a scene that you want me to be watching while you shoot, you may ask and I will attend. This is not mandatory. I will not be taking you out to dinner tonight because we are both bushed, but I do intend to do so several times and I expect you to be on your best behavior because, undoubtedly, there will be reporters. I like seeing you in person, pet, and not on the cover of the _Enquirer_ ," Viggo finished his survey of the car and began to put it in gear. "Speaking of reporters, I don't want you talking to them. Give them a 'no comment' on anything, even if it's what sort of toothbrush you use. They'll twist anything you say and I don't want to give them ammunition. Any questions, pet?"

Sean shook his head. Viggo spared him one glance and then put his mind on the unfamiliar road. All the actors had suites in a local hotel, with Pitt getting a penthouse. Sean's was big enough for their purposes, with two bedrooms, a full bath, and a small kitchen off a living room. Viggo had heard there was a balcony and he itched to tie up his pet there, wrap the leash around the railing, and have a quiet night out there, petting his pet. Viggo mentally cursed telescopic lenses. He had a deck at home, but the view was nothing like it was here. He supposed he could always sketch Sean into a drawing of the skyline, but it wasn't the same as having Sean's head on his lap while he smoothed his pet's hair and received a thankful lick whenever his hand strayed down to cup Sean's cheek.

The hotel was a cookie-cutter one, something Viggo would never have chosen himself. There was no character about the place and it said nothing about the place it was in. For all the hotel cared, it could have been on the moon. But it had outside entrances and Viggo gave it a grudging respect for allowing him to be able to enter the hotel without the paparazzi descending. Sean had almost fallen asleep and Viggo shook him lightly as he turned the car off. "Wake up, pet." He pulled the toy gently from Sean's mouth and wiped it off on his shirt. Sean's fingers intertwined themselves with Viggo's and Sean opened his eyes slowly.

"Leash?" he asked hopefully and Viggo almost laughed. It had taken him long enough to break Sean into a leash, but Sean had grown addicted to it. Viggo was never sure what to make of that.

What the hell. It was dark outside. "Unbutton your shirt." Sean did so as quickly as he could and then turned his shining eyes back to his owner. Viggo took Sean's hand and placed it in his pocket. "Find your leash." Viggo always wore extra-large pants when he traveled, with equally large pockets. The wonderful upside of this was that Sean would be unable to avoid Viggo's cock as he searched for what he wanted.

After taking much longer than Viggo knew he needed, Sean pulled out the [long leather leash](http://www.dog-training.com/fsdtleas.htm#Latigo Flat-Braided Leashes) and uncoiled it. Viggo took the handle and snapped the hook onto the ring of Sean's collar and then lay the braided section against Sean's chest. Viggo tweaked Sean's nipples on his way back up and then buttoned Sean's shirt over the leash. Viggo had Sean hold the end of the leash in his mouth while Viggo popped the trunk and retrieved his luggage.

Sean was panting by the time Viggo opened the passenger-side door and Viggo wondered in a small part of his mind just what it was about having a lead that made Sean go immediately from exhaustion to excitement. Viggo knew he had trained it into his pet, but he had overused choke chains as well and Sean had never grown to like _those_. Or the bark collar.

Viggo leaned over his puppy's lap, knowing that Sean was too far gone to realize that he needed to unbuckle the seat belt before being able to get out of the car. He pressed the catch and grabbed the end of the leash from Sean's mouth, leading him out of the car. He motioned for Sean to get the luggage, all the while keeping his hand low enough so that the leash would be hidden to any curious passerby. Sean had to drop the duffel and carry-on to fish around for his key card and Viggo took the opportunity to sneak a bottle of lubricant from his bag. He knew Sean would not have stocked up, believing it to be a sign that he was cheating on his owner. Why else would someone keep lubricant in his hotel room if he wasn't getting laid by his master? Viggo privately wondered if Sean only told him that to get off of having to buy the supplies himself, but it really didn't matter. Sean was always more than willing, and Viggo knew that his puppy had enough love in him to go around.

The door opened and Sean hit the lights before stepping over the threshold. Viggo let him drop the bags before rugbytackling him. Sean squirmed playfully and Viggo inhaled Sean hair with one deep breath. Viggo kicked the door closed, relishing the slam it made. He began to bite his way down Sean's neck, grumbling his dissatisfaction at the time apart while his hands busied themselves by pulling at Sean's leash every few seconds. Sean whimpered. Viggo grinned at the sound and kissed the back of Sean's ear, pushing himself off the ground. Viggo grabbed his bags and made way to what was obviously the room Sean had taken for his own. "You know what to do, puppy."

And, oh, did he do it well. When Viggo returned from throwing his bags into an available corner, Sean had stripped down to his collar and had his leash draped over his forearms, ready for Viggo to take control. And Viggo did, pushing Sean down onto all-fours and pulling his puppy against his zipper.

"Do you want me, pet?"

Sean nodded eagerly and began to lick at the soft jeans, trying to get Viggo wet through the cloth. Viggo smiled indulgently and let down his zipper. With a yelp of appreciation, Sean was sucking him and doing things with his tongue no pet should know how to do.

"Missed you, Sean," Viggo murmured, yanking on the leash to pull Sean even more on him. "Missed your soft presence at home. Missed you running to me and jumping into my lap when storms came. Missed playing with your dick when we were both too tired to do anything more. Missed knowing you were there and always ready for me. Missed giving you yarn and watch you play with it, or throwing you your cell phone and making you catch it. Or watching you lie on your back while you talked to your agent with the secret knowledge of what he would think were he to know what you looked like while calmly discussing parts with him. You always looked so wanton while on your back for me, puppy." Sean hummed an agreement and Viggo let out a deep sigh that ended in a groan. Sean's mouth was perfectly wet and warm and welcoming and Viggo reveled in it. Fuck, he had missed this. "Bring me off, puppy. I want you to taste me on the back of your tongue for the rest of the week." Sean whimpered and Viggo could see how close his pet was. "Come for me, pet. Come when I come. Mark the floor." Sean whimpered again and obeyed.

Sean lay his head against Viggo's hip and mumbled. Viggo cupped Sean's chin and lifted it.

"Time for bed, Sean." Sean nodded wordlessly and Viggo tugged lightly on the leash, pulling Sean along, making him crawl. Once Sean had mounted the bed, Viggo unfastened the leash carefully and doubled it over the chair to the left of the bed. Viggo finished undressing, palming the lubricant and then putting it on the night table when Sean wasn't watching.

The bed was softer than standard-issue hotel beds had a right to be, but Viggo wasn't complaining. He sat up against the headboard and put Sean's head in his lap, stroking Sean's hair while his pet told him about Troy, and Malta, and Eric Bana, and how Peterson worked them to the bone, but never threw them one. Sean's voice trailed off every so often, but came back to enjoy the caresses and he purred.

Viggo stroked Sean until his puppy fell asleep in his lap. Then Viggo reached up and twisted the wall light, returning the room to welcome darkness.

Viggo slept better than he had in months.


	7. Feline Fun 7: Halloween Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't try placing this on a timeline. I'm not even sure where it goes. ;)
> 
> Much love to caras_galadhon for beta'ing this completely useless, plotless, purposeless Halloween puppy fic. All errors left are because I'm stubborn and didn't do what she said. Much love also to cinzia who apart from being very patient with me as to the continuation of the series, also inadvertingly inspired this. *hands her chew toy*

Sean's head lay on Viggo's chest and he suckled delicately at Viggo's nipples, biting down a little when Viggo's hand tightened on his hair.

"So where was I?" Viggo smiled down at his pet. "Oh, yes. Out in the wilderness."

"You finished that one, master. The children were the monster and killed their scoutmaster."

"Right," Viggo shifted into a more comfortable position against the pillows. "Pull the covers up, pet. I want your fur against me."

Sean obeyed, covering up to the top of his head with the dark green comforter. It was cold outside and so, after tea and giving out candy to demanding budding capitalists, they had taken to bed. Viggo was doing his best to get his puppy so scared that he wouldn't let go all night. Sean rubbed his beard against Viggo's collarbone and rested his brown leather collar against his owner's chest.

"Scared yet, pet?"

"They tell me I can fake it pretty well, master. Shall I?"

"Impertinent pet."

"You love me for it."

Viggo wrapped his arms around his puppy. "Among other things. Now, if you get bored, you have permission to start licking me. And if you get scared, tell me."

Sean made a contented noise in the back of his throat and nuzzled Viggo's neck, breathing in Ivory, teriyaki sauce, and old dried paint. Viggo always smelled good. "Can I have cream if I'm good?"

Viggo chuckled at that. "I think you've tired me out for the day, but I can try." They had had a very satisfying fuck earlier in the night. Viggo had dressed Sean up as Bugs Bunny and proceeded to discover just how anatomically correct cartoon characters could be. Then he had made him answer the door with his master lurking in the background, dressed to the nines in the classic devil costume, complete with pitchfork. Sean had plans for that pitchfork. It would feel wonderful prodding him along, or down his throat should Viggo choose to force him to fellate a tine. Maybe Viggo would even have him do it with his hands tied behind his back. Sean could only hope.

So he had understandably gotten excited by seeing Viggo standing in the kitchen - so excited that Viggo had needed to calm his puppy down once again lest they scare the neighbors. Sean had been a _very_ good pet after that.

"I can be inspiring."

Viggo kissed his spiky hair and Sean purred. "Yes, you can, pet. Now close your eyes. Place yourself in a small village in Romania."

"Never been there."

Viggo swatted him. "You're spoiling the mood."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"Yeah. I'm not."

"I'd tell you to fetch your water bowl, but I'm too comfortable to let you move."

"Tomorrow?" Sean asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow," Viggo agreed. "And then maybe I'll declaw you."

Even though he knew the threat to be mostly talk, Sean pouted. "I'll be good," he promised.

"Don't bother. You're cute when you're feisty."

Sean blushed, leaned forward to kiss his owner on the chin. "Your pet loves you, master."

Viggo laughed and held Sean tighter. "You're not going anywhere, my dear Mr. Bean, so settle down. You keep rubbing against me, I might get excited again, and then I'll sleep through breakfast."

"I'd bring it to you in bed."

Viggo considered this. "You just want to get fucked again. Very randy puppy."

"Puppy's missed you."

"Missed you too, puppy."

"Puppy has a great ass," Sean said. Couldn't hurt to state a fact.

"Puppy does indeed have a great ass."

"And puppy's still open from before."

Viggo's fingers tightened across Sean's hip. "Puppy's a bit of a slut, isn't he?"

"Puppy's a very big slut," Sean agreed. "But he's your slut."

"That excuses it?"

"Yeah."

Viggo shrugged, sending vibrations into Sean, making him purr even more. "Close your eyes, pet." He paused and his left hand began to trace concentric circles on the small of Sean's back. "Place yourself in a village in Germany. It's a small village, one that's stayed the same for centuries and doesn’t look to change soon. About fifty families live in small houses and there's one long road that comes down from the mountain. There's a schoolhouse and a stable, a blacksmith and a cooper. It's a peaceful village."

"But it's a ghost story, so it can't be."

"Don't interrupt, skittish puppy."

"Yes, sir."

"It's a peaceful village," Viggo continued as Sean started to lick his way down his owner's body. Much more interesting than a village with a local ghost. "At least, that's what they tell people."

"Told you," Sean said around the muscle of Viggo's bicep. Very delicious spot.

"And you were right, puppy. See, in this village, no one went out after dark."

"Vandalism," Sean said with apparent empathy. "I understand."

" _Pet_."

Sean put on his best innocent look. "Yes, master?"

"Nibble at me all you want, but that's the only thing your mouth should be doing right now."

"Yes, master. You taste good."

"Thank you. Where was I?"

"No one went outside."

"No one went outside. Never from dusk to dawn. Not because of vandals, impertinent yet adorable puppy, or roving gangs, or vampires, or werewolves. This is a _ghost_ story." Viggo paused for effect. "After dark was when She came out."

"Sexism."

"Sean!"

"Sorry, master."

"How am I supposed to scare you if you don't shut up long enough be to _be_ scared?"

"Gag me?"

Viggo reached down, grabbed Sean's collar, and pulled his puppy up until they were looking eye to eye. "Sean Bean, you are not to speak unless given permission to do so, understand?"

Sean's grin fell. "Yes, master."

Viggo grabbed the nylon rope from the nightstand and threaded it through the D-ring on Sean's collar. He wrapped the ends around his hand, leaving about a yard's movement for Sean. "Don't give me that look," he chided. "It makes me feel like I just kicked you. Under the bed is your tail. Get it, put it on. You've been a very bad boy, Sean."

Flushed, Sean leaned over the bed, fingers searching, finally grasping the tail plug. It had been their first join purchase and had initially been a reward until they both discovered just how much Sean didn't like wearing it. He was fine for the first five minutes or so, but after that the tail hairs began to scratch against his ass and thighs.

Sean sucked briefly on two of his fingers before pushing them inside himself, checking to see how prepped he still was. Enough for the plug, he discovered very quickly. Viggo had almost split him open with the force the second time. It really wasn't so bad of a plug, he rationalized. They had easily a half dozen that were bigger, but this was the one he dreaded. Viggo must be really annoyed with him, Sean realized, grimacing as he pushed the plug inside him. It didn't fill him half the way Viggo did. Very poor substitute. But he didn't dare protest.

"As I was saying, She came out when the sun went down. She looked like a young woman, but She was always so sad. No one knew why She was sad, or where She came from, or what She was doing. They only knew to stay inside. In all the years She had walked the road of the village, no one had seen her age. She didn't look quite real - that's how they knew She was a ghost. All her color was washed away and she was always tinged with shades of grey and black.

"One night, Manni's little sister had a cough and Mama needed some medicine. But it was already dark and Mama didn't dare go to the healer. It was too dangerous. But his sister was sick, and so Manni would dare it.

"He got dressed up in all his niceties," Viggo went on. Sean's mouth had strayed a little, started licking up the dried sweat at the top of Viggo's thighs, and so Viggo pulled hard at the rope. "None of that." Sean nodded. Viggo went on. "All his favorite clothes. And it was winter, so he put on his new scarf. It was bright red and he loved it very much because his grandmother had made it for him for his birthday.

"The healer's house was just across the road and so Manni prepared to make a run for it. All his siblings crowded around the windows to watch him tempt fate. And at first it was fine. He crossed, got the medicine, and was preparing to run across again when She came by.

"Manni was struck by how sad and forlorn She was, but he mostly saw that She was shivering. She was wearing just a pale bridal gown and it was dancing around her in a nonexistent wind. She looked cold. Manni took off his scarf and walked closer to her.

"'Here,' he said. 'You can have this.' And as his hand touched hers, She disappeared.

"The next night the Ghost walked through the village, dark red scarf wrapped tightly around his neck."

Sean peeked up from where he had huddled on Viggo's knee. "Is it over yet?"

"It's over."

Sean nodded solemnly and pressed a kiss to Viggo's calf. "The way you told it makes me want to cry."

"Oh, puppy," Viggo tugged gently on the rope and held Sean close to him. "I told you to tell me if it started to really get to you."

Sean rested his head on Viggo's shoulder. "Your puppy loves you, master."

"Your master loves you too, puppy."

Sean nodded as if this was a profound truth. "Don't ever leave me."

"I won't, pet. I won't."

"Tell me another?"


	8. Feline Fun VIII: An Interlude, For Comfort

The sound of thunder echoed throughout the house. Viggo was reading by lamplight on the couch and was wholly unprepared when Sean ran down the stairs and pounced into his lap. The book went flying, the lamp tipped over, and Viggo found himself with an armful of panicking pet.

No amount of soothing noises could calm Sean and Viggo found himself rocking him like a child, pressing kisses to his forehead, and stroking his back. Every clasp of thunder sent Sean into more convulsions until finally the storm subsided.

"Better, love?" Viggo asked softly.

Sean shook his head and kept his eyes on the floor. His whispered apology almost wasn't audible. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We all have things that scare us."

Sean laughed a little at that, but it wasn't happy. "I was watching horror movies. I should know better."

There was nothing Viggo could say to that. He was content to cuddle Sean for a few more moments, before standing up. "Put some clothes on."

Sean opened his mouth as if to argue, then closed it. He bowed his head. "Yes, master."

Viggo put his sandals on while waiting, and made some tea. He took out two travel mugs and filled them to the brim with the hot liquid. He was putting croissants in a white paper bag when Sean came downstairs again, dressed to go outside. Viggo nodded in approval.

They didn't speak as they walked arm in arm through the wet deserted streets. Viggo took notice of the way the traffic lights and neon glowing signs reflected in the puddled water. Sean's head rested on Viggo's shoulder and he sipped his tea infrequently. It had been some time since Sean had needed this kind of soothing and Viggo was more than a little worried. He knew the dangers of getting too far into headspace and he wasn't going to let Sean descend into the depths. Not while he was in charge.

As the clocks struck midnight, they headed back to the house. Viggo stripped Sean gently just inside the foyer and they took a hot shower together. Viggo waited until after Sean was sleeping to take off his collar.

 

\--

 

Sean woke up with his head on Viggo's chest and blinked in confusion. _Furry_ was his first thought. The second was the absence of any restraint around his throat. Hesitantly, he lifted one hand to his neck and jerked a little in surprise. Viggo had _never_ taken away his collar before. And Sean didn't quite know what to do about it.

Sure, he knew where Viggo kept them. If he wanted, he could reach over into the nightstand and buckle one on before Viggo woke up. But it wasn't just the lack of collar. It was that Viggo had taken it off.

But one thing was clear: Viggo wanted them to be out of role. No more masters, no more pets. Sean was out of practice at it, but he was sure he could do it.

The first thing he was going to do, he decided, was to wake Master up with a blowjob. Master hadn't ever let him do it on his own initiative and Sean missed it. He could make up for lost time. And, smiling a little to himself, Sean set out to do just that.

He knew he was doing a good job when Viggo woke up with a curse on his lips. Viggo's hands immediately found their way into his hair, urging him on, but no command came. Christ, Sean thought, Viggo must really be serious about this.

When Viggo had come and Sean had kissed him good morning, Sean demanded an explanation. And Viggo gave it to him, punctured by licking and sucking and a good deal of love. Sean purred through it, happy and content.

By lunch time, Sean was on his knees, begging for table scrapings. By dinner, he was on his back, getting his tummy rubbed.

Life is good.


	9. Feline Fun Nine: A Horse Is A Horse, Of Course, Of Course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cinzia wanted Feline Fun TJ jealousy.

"You always play with _him_."

As soon as the words were out, Sean winced. He hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh. But, dammit, _he_ was Viggo's pet. Viggo should be spending him with _him_ , not some mongrel horse he picked up through the kindness of his heart. Ever since Viggo had brought TJ home, Sean had watched helplessly as his master got more and more distant. If Sean wanted to cuddle on the couch, no, Viggo had to brush TJ. If Sean wanted to be petted, TJ needed to be brushed. If Sean wanted to be ridden hard and put up wet, he had to get in line behind a fucking horse. It wasn't bloody fair. _He_ was the pet here, not TJ. Wasn't he?

Or did Viggo not want him anymore? Sean could understand that. The novelty had worn off several years ago but Sean had liked the lazy familiarity more than anything that had come before. Damnit all, he liked being predictable. He liked having his Master know everything he was going to do before he himself knew he was going to do it. He liked coming downstairs and knowing down to the exact detail how Viggo took his coffee. He liked being the one Viggo could always count on to be there. And Viggo, in return, had always returned his devotion with love and care. Until recently, that was.

It wasn't fucking _fair_. And you don't break promises to a pet.

"I play with you, too," was Viggo's response. He gave his pet a scrutinizing look that made Sean squirm. "Don't tell me you're jealous of a pony, Sean."

No, he wasn't jealous. He was so resentful that he could feel it coming out of his eyeballs, but he wasn't jealous. Pets weren't allowed to be jealous. Territorial, yes, but Master did what masters always do, and there's nothing Sean can do to put a stop to it. Sean should at least be happy that master's only straying with one of his animals.

"You just spend so much time with him."

"He's young. He needs attention." Viggo said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And I don't?"

No, Viggo hadn't been ignoring him lately, but he hadn't been getting the sort of attention he used to receive. Viggo used to focus on Sean. Now he focused on Sean and that mangy little whore in the stables.

"Sean."

"Yes, master?"

"Get over here."

With a heavy sigh, Sean pushed himself from leaning against the threshold. He walked over to the kitchen chair and knelt down in front of it. "Yes, master."

Viggo lifted Sean's chin and his thumb stroked Sean's overly-nibbled lower lip. "You think I've been neglecting you."

"No." Perfect truth. Sean _knew_ Viggo had been neglecting him.

"Pet."

Sean blushed. "Yes, master. I have."

"And what can I do to get you to stop feeling like that?"

"Stop neglecting me?"

Viggo tsked. "If it was that easy, why didn't you just ask? Why'd you demand?"

Sean grinned. That one was easy. "Because I'm a spoiled pet."

"Wrong."

"Master?"

"You're _my_ spoiled pet."


	10. Feline Fun Ten: Triple Drabble: Bathing Sean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically part of FF. But it's also a triple drabble.

"Come on, Sean. Bath time."

Sean pouted. Rolled over. Whined.

Viggo wasn't impressed. He'd seen it all last time he'd tried to wrestle Sean into the tub.

" _Pet._ "

Sean did his best innocent-me expression, but wouldn't budge when Viggo tugged on the leash.

"I'll take away your chewtoy."

Sean mewled, but stayed where he was.

"I won't let you claw the furniture."

Sean examined his nails and then showed them to Viggo. He looked bored.

"I won't let you blow me."

Sean yelped and looked cross. He gave Viggo a small growl. Viggo whacked him on the head lightly when the leash handle.

"Bad boy."

Sean nuzzled at Viggo's hand with his cheek. Kissed his fingers and then began to suck.

But Viggo would not be distracted. " _Bath_ , puppy. And then if you're good enough, I'll fuck you." He grabbed Sean by the scruff of his neck and led him to the large tub in the garage. Sean protested all the way but Viggo was being an unfeeling bastard master and wanted to get his pet clean for once.

He maneuvered Sean into kneeling down in the tub and then started up the water. Sean looked petulant and wet by the time Viggo found the soap. He poured liberal amounts onto a soft sponge and, starting with Sean's shoulder, makes long steady strokes backwards down Sean's back. He makes smooth circular motions at the small of Sean's back and was rewarded by a satisfied purr.

"That's a good boy," Viggo muttered, bringing the sponge back up to rub at Sean's shoulders. "Relax, pet. Let me pamper you."

Sean purred some more. He turned his head and lapped at Viggo's wrist as soap suds slide from Sean's arm onto the bottom of the tub.

"See? It's not that bad."

Sean barked.


End file.
